I resisted confronting that reality. As many of you know, I'm on an extended vacation. I never even considered going without my laptop. I need to stay in touch, I told myself. Week one, no problem. Just me and my husband and we both spend a lot of time on our computers and we are good with it. Week two, kids and grandkids arrive. I'm trying to balance family life, the 5 hour time difference and my desire to stay in touch w/ what's going on on TPM. By week three the comments begin...."Are we going to the beach? Or are you just going to blog all day?" "Don't worry, I'm sure your friends on TPM need you more than we do?"  "Gaga, can you quit blogging and play fairies with me? (I think they put her up to that!) Week four, I'm getting a little testy...why can't I have it all? Why do I have to choose between my family and my blogging? I begin hiding my blogging...waiting until they are all in bed, even though no one is around and I'm 12 hours behind the current conversation. An occassional quick comment before anyone notices I'm gone.

Week five...I can't take it anymore. Their nagging is impinging on my enjoyment of my blogging...I go cold turkey... For 2-3 days, I'm okay. Life is going on. I'm enjoying my family, and I'm not in too much pain. I can do this. Just a week and they'll be leaving, and I can go back to blogging. Or maybe I won't need it anymore and I can go back to being a regular person. Yeah. A regular person. I'll go back to being a regular person.

I relapse. I decide just reading wouldn't be so bad. If I don't comment, it won't be like really blogging. No one will know. Isn't there a patch or something? Methadone for bloggers? Oh, God...Justice lived in the same down I did, at about the same time. I comment...Bwak notices and says everyone misses me. I'm F$&#ed.

That's when I had to face it. I'm a junkie. And not an apologetic junkie. I am a full fledged, card carrying, can't wait to get my next fix junkie. I didn't want to believe it. I thought I could quit whenever I wanted. I wish this admission made me feel ashamed, but it doesn't. I've examined my addiction, and I can accept it.  I don't want an intervention. I don't want to stop. I like myself just fine, just the way I am.

Now, don't get me wrong. I adore my family, and if I REALLY had to make a choice, they would win. But, thank you Jesus, I don't have to, so I'm going to keep feeding my habit. I may have to hide it some in order to project some semblence of normalcy to the people who are entrusting their children to my care in a couple of months, but I can do it. Weeks six and seven will be okay. It's back to me and my husband...I'll miss them, but at least I don't have to have white knuckles...I'll figure out the details  when we return home in just under two weeks.

I'm a junkie, and they are just going to have to find a way to deal with it.